


Frustration

by bkwrm523



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:28:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23253202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bkwrm523/pseuds/bkwrm523
Summary: I mean it’s basically PWP.  Closet sex with Bruce.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Reader, Bruce Wayne/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 175





	Frustration

“Don’t get the -”

“I’ve got it, just hold on.”

“I told you, it -”

“Will you just -”

“Look, just let me -”

“Shit.”

“What?” Bruce asked from behind you, sounding tired. He was standing in the doorway of the tiny closet, propping the door open with his body. It kept trying to shut and lock, and he didn’t have the key.

“My hand’s stuck.” And it was, between two heavy boxes. Just what was clamped down on it, you weren’t sure. It was smooth and metal and thankfully didn’t hurt. But you couldn’t retrieve your hand.

“Hold on.” Bruce replied. A moment later, you felt his warmth against your back, his chest pressing into you, and his arms reaching around you. “I’m sorry,” Bruce continued, “but there’s only one way to do this.”

“Not a problem.” You replied, trying to hide how strained your voice was. Hopefully, he would chalk it up to pain or stress from getting your hand stuck. Your crush pressing into your back, reaching his arms around you like he was holding you? Sure! No problem! You definitely weren’t having trouble. God, you just hoped he didn’t take your pulse.

Bruce shuffled around, pressing closer into you as he fumbled for whatever was holding your hand, and you quietly tried not to die. Naturally, it was just then that you heard a long creak, and a door shutting. Bruce froze, and neither of you moved for a moment.

“Was that…” you began.

“The closet door.” Bruce finished, sounding resigned. “Hold on.”

“ _Very_ funny,” you rolled your eyes at the probably unintentional pun, and his hands retreated from you.

“Alfred?” Bruce said a moment later. He must have had his cell phone or something in his pocket, you reasoned. Fortunately. “We’re trapped in the - yes, in that one. Can’t you … all right, fine.” A click of him hanging up, and Bruce sighed. “Alfred’s looking for the key.”

“As in he doesn’t know where it is?”

“Basically.”

“Fantastic.” You spat out, annoyed. This closet was _tiny_. Bruce was still pressed against your body, and you were having trouble thinking straight. You could feel his breath on your neck, could _smell_ him. You shifted your weight a little, trying to distract yourself.

“Hey,” you spoke after a moment. “Do you think you could…”

“Hmm?”

“Free my hand?”

“Oh! Sorry.” Bruce’s arms went back around you, and you barely swallowed a moan.

He was grunting. You had to bite your lip to keep quiet, because _he was grunting in your ear_. Finally, your hand yanked free. You clutched it to your chest, trying to massage feeling back into your numb fingers, muttering a small ‘thank you.’

Time passed. Alfred did not appear, and being this close to _Bruce Wayne_ was getting harder by the moment.

“Here, let me.” Bruce said. Before you could ask what he meant, his arms circled your waist. A ‘meep’ might have escaped you, as he took the formerly trapped hand and started to massage it. “Better?”

“Yep.” You replied, your voice a little shrill. It was a wonder you’d managed to get the word out. You shifted your weight, a little anxious. Also, Bruce was pressing one of your legs into a box, and it was getting uncomfortable. You fidgeted, trying to find a better place for your legs, but there just weren’t many options. Maybe if you - the train of thought stopped abruptly when Bruce’s hands released yours and grasped your hips firmly, holding you still.

“Stop. Moving.” Bruce hissed into your ear.

It was only then that you became aware of the erection pressing into your ass. Honestly, with the size of it, you were a little startled that you hadn’t noticed it sooner. There was a long moment where neither of you spoke, and you carefully weighed your options.

_Nothing ventured, nothing gained._ You finally thought to yourself, and started fidgeting once more. You leaned back into him, pressing your ass into his cock as you pretended to search for a more comfortable stance.

Bruce _growled_ , and you suddenly forgot how to move.

You felt his lips on the crook of your neck, startling you. You jumped a little, and you could feel the smirk curl his lips as he nipped at your sensitive skin. His hands left your hips, wrapping around your waist and pulling you into him as he ravaged your neck until you were whimpering in his arms. Your head tossed back, resting on his shoulder, squirming and writhing in his arms as the ability to speak slowly left you.

Then his hands moved. They found the edge of your shirt, wandering inside and caressing your smooth skin until they found your breasts. You made a high pitched noise as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, tweaking them and sucking on the crook of your neck until you saw stars. You arched your back into his hands, your body instinctively seeking more.

“Bruce,” you gasped, tugging at his arms where they disappeared under your shirt. You wanted more. You _needed_ more.

“Hmmm?” Bruce asked idly, never ceasing what his hands and lips were doing to you.

“Bruce, _please_.”

“Please what?”

“Hnnnnggggg…” you struggled to remember how to speak; he wasn’t make it easy for you. “Pleasemakemecome.” You finally stammered out, rushing the words. [hi i love this]

You felt him smile against your neck again, and his hands left your shirt. A whoosh of breath left you, and he released the skin of your neck. His hands dropped to your pants, taking only a moment to undo them, before he slipped a hand inside. You gasped, loud and involuntary as his hand slid slowly down between your legs. Bruce gave a soft, smug chuckle at the sound as his hand continued to tease you. His hand stroked the outside of your folds, ignoring your pleading whimpers. You completely forgot about his other hand until it grasped a breast under your shirt, tweaking the nipple again until you cried out. Finally, one finger slid between your folds to caress around your clit. You squirmed in his arms and babbled, unsure if you wanted more or less stimulation. Your hips writhed, trying to thrust into him.

“Master Wayne? Miss Y/n?” Alfred’s voice came, just as Bruce’s fingers thrust inside you. Your eyes got huge, and a squeak escaped you. You lifted your hands, tugging at the arm buried in your pants. Bruce ignored you, his hands continued to seek inside you for the spots that’d make you writhe. Alfred called your names again, his distant voice getting closer.

“Bruce!” You hissed. “Stop!”

“Mmmmmm,” he made a noncommittal noise as his fingers moved inside you. “You asked me to make you come.”

“Bruce!” You squeaked, trying to protest, but it came out as more of a moan.

“Better answer him,” Bruce purred.

“H-here!” Your voice was mercifully level, if a bit high pitched.

“We’re all right, Alfred.” Bruce answered, his own voice perfectly calm. “Did you find the key yet?” You folded forward, almost falling as Bruce added another finger inside you. The hand on your breast caught you, pulling you back into him.

“Not yet.” You barely heard Alfred’s reply. “But I believe I’ve narrowed down where it must be. Don’t worry, I’ll find it.” Alfred reassured Bruce. “Are you both still all right in there?”

“We’re fine, Alfred.” Bruce replied.

“Miss Y/n?”

“Y-yeah!” Naturally, Bruce’s fingers found your g-spot _just_ as you spoke, and the word came out as a squeak. His fingers sped up inside you, attacking the spot until you squeezed your eyes shut, barely managing to stop yourself from crying out. Alfred… said something. You couldn’t hear what. Then you heard his footsteps mercifully start to retreat as you held your orgasm in through effort of will alone.

“He’s gone,” Bruce replied after a moment. “Scream for me.”

You obeyed; you had no choice. Your pussy contracted, squeezing his large fingers inside you as you writhed from inside the prison of his arms. Your head dropped back against his chest, tears leaking from your eyes as your senses were utterly lost to the orgasm his fingers were milking from you. His fingers stroked your g-spot, seizing your muscles and forcing you to endure wave after wave of orgasm until you wanted nothing more than to plead for mercy, but your throat wouldn’t produce words.

Your orgasm finally started to die down, but his fingers never stopped, and one orgasm led directly to another. You tried to squeak out a protest, but intelligible words were impossible. Without looking, one of your hands fumbled around until it grabbed the arm Bruce had buried inside your pants, and weakly tried to tug it out. Needless to say, it didn’t work, and you were haplessly thrown into another orgasm. You whined and cried his name and squirmed in his arms as one orgasm led to another. Bruce finally released you, and you collapsed in his arms, thoroughly wrung out. Your weak arms propped you up, leaning against the boxes in front of you, as Bruce gently put your clothing back together.

“Uhm.” Bruce broke the silence first, awkwardly clearing his throat. “I, uh… I was going to ask you to dinner. Eventually.”

A smile came unbidden to your face, and you automatically ducked your head to hide your cheeks heating in a flush. His confidence was incredibly sexy, but this… uncertain, insecure, awkward man was nothing short of adorable.

“Alfred knows exactly where the key is, doesn’t he?” You asked.

“Yeah. Said he’d let us out when I admitted my feelings.”

“Well,” you laughed softly. “I’d love to go to dinner with you, Bruce.”


End file.
